I was fourteen the first time I saw an autumn forest. It was in my grandmother's room in Peru, while she was sewing on her sewing machine, an ancient relic. Behind her, on the wall, hung a calendar with the image of a nostalgic forest: a luminous sun, filtering through centuries-old trees, revealing a golden blanket of reddish, orange, and yellow leaves. Below, a single word: Germany. That photo remained in my memory forever.
Years later, I was there, facing that same autumn, in a German forest in Kiel dense morning fog, a faint sun, fresh and pure air, the smell of damp earth, bark, and moss, the carpet of yellow leaves crunching under my boots. That landscape conveyed a profound sense of peace and magic. I had found my refuge.
That's where my love for Germany was born, the country that taught me to grow as a person. I fully integrated, without hesitation.
My lifelong family and friends told me I was losing my essence. I doubted it for a moment. But my essence remained intact only my way of seeing life was different.
For family reasons, I currently live in Spain, and now more than ever, after experiencing different cultural experiences, that personal affirmation is reborn in me, not to tell me who I am, but to remind me who I already was, without losing my essence, the same essence that is in my DNA.